Remember When
by NCCJFAN
Summary: When they decided to let things cool down and take their relationship slowly, neither of them knew that it would eventually grind to a halt. Changes in careers and changes in relationships stood in their way. And then the biggest change of all brought t
1. Do You Still Talk to God Through That Th

**It's been a while since I've written solo. I've been having way too much fun with Nina, and to be honest, inspiration has been running low. **

**But the muse whispered in my ear about a week ago….that and I got a couple of e-mail requesting another fiction set in the future … and this is what I came up with. Hope you like it.**

**Disclaimer: Despite whining and crying, begging and pleading, I still don't own Crossing Jordan.**

**

* * *

****Chapter One**

**Do You Still Talk to God Through That Thing?**

Jordan sighed and pushed a stray piece of hair back into her messy bun. Another eighteen hour shift had come and gone and all she had on her mind was a hot shower, a cold beer, and a warm bed. Then uninterrupted sleep for the next ten hours at least. Tomorrow was Friday and she had the day off…and the entire weekend to boot. She wasn't on call…she wasn't scheduled for anything. A smile crept its way across her face as the elevator stopped on the floor for her apartment and she got out as the doors opened.

She keyed in her apartment, shut the door, and then stopped to enjoy the view from the ceiling-to-floor windows of her penthouse. She had come a long, long way from her Pearle Street apartment. A long way indeed in the last seven years. Years had blown by her like leaves in a whirlwind. Snagging that cold beer from the refrigerator, she uncapped it and slowly walked toward the windows, massaging the tired muscles in her neck along the way.

And knocking her stethoscope in the floor. She smiled again as she bent down to pick it up, remembering what Garret had asked her years ago when she had given him her old one that she had used in residency and thanked him for saving her: "Do you still talk to God through that thing?"

"No, now we e-mail," had been her cryptic reply. Jordan chuckled to herself. No, she didn't talk to God through her stethoscope, and as far as she was concerned the last prayer of hers that He had answered concerned Woody living through his sniper shooting….so even e-mail from the Deity was out of the question.

But she did listen to hearts through the instrument. Beating hearts….or rather hearts that were beating irregularly. After she and Woody had decided to take things slowly…their relationship had seemingly come to a halt. It didn't go forwards or backwards…it just kind of got stuck. Her trust issues came up…as well as his need for a traditional relationship. Eventually they had drifted apart…and even remembering that one night of passion shared at the Lucy Carver Inn hadn't been enough to propel what they had forward again.

Working with him became a type of bittersweet torture, especially after she learned he had begun seeing other women. Lu Simmons to be exact. So Jordan had decided to cut her losses. Cardiology still fascinated her. So despite Garret's protests, she had gone back to school, finished her residency, and became a pediatric cardiologist. She was now on staff at Boston's Children's Hospital. She hadn't been back in the morgue in the last four – no, now it was nearer five – years. Through lots of hard work and determination, she had become one of the best in her field.

But not without some sacrifice. She didn't see her morgue family nearly as much as she wanted. And the staff at the Children's hospital was always too busy and frantic to establish many relationships. The hospital Christmas party was about the extent of any time together outside of office hours.

She missed Nigel. She missed Bug. And Lily. And of course Garret. However, there had been some rewards, too. She made more money now. She moved from her funky Pearle Street apartment to a penthouse. Her clothes were even trendier and came from expensive boutiques. She had long ago abandoned her water-logged El Camino and now drove a Mercedes SUV.

Material things didn't go a long way in healing a broken heart, but they did help fill the gap. She turned from the windows and turned to walk down the hall to go to her bedroom when the blinking light on her answering machine caught her eye. One message. She hit the play button:

_Hey Dr. Cavanaugh…Jordan…this is your old boss…Garret. Remember me? Long time, no see…or talk to. But I need to see you. Could you meet me at Tony's tomorrow for a late breakfast? I called your office, but your answering service said you were on an 18-hour shift….so if you want to meet around 10, that would be great. Unless I hear from you, I'll expect to see you there. And Jordan, this is not a request…I need to see you. Please._

Jordan looked at her wrist watch. Two-thirty in the morning. It was far too late…or early, depending on how you looked at it … for her to call. But the tone in Garret's voice caused the apprehension to rise in her. He sounded nearly desperate. She chewed her lip for a minute, but turned away from the phone. Whatever was bothering him would have to wait until tomorrow morning for her to find out.

* * *

"I ordered you chocolate chip pancakes. I hope you don't mind," Garret said the minute she sat down in the booth at Tony's. "I remembered they're your favorite. I hope that hasn't changed."

"No…" her voice trailed off as the waitress brought her coffee and orange juice while she waited on her breakfast. Surreptitiously, she observed Garret over the rim of her coffee cup. His hair was definitely graying now…on his head and on his goatee. He looked tired. A sudden fear rose in her…what if the reason Garret had asked her here was because he was having cardiac problems and wanted a reference? "Are you alright?" The question came out of her mouth before she had a chance to filter it and tone it down.

"Me? Sure. Why?"

"It's just that….that…well, I mean…you look…" There was no way to make this sound any better and Jordan could feel herself digging her own hole.

"Tired?"

She nodded. "I don't mean to sound ugly, but yeah. And that concerns me."

Garret paused while the waitress sat down their food order. "Well, it could be because I _am_ tired, Jordan. Do you know how old I am?"

Jordan mentally did the math, but kept getting tripped up. She wasn't sure how old he was when she came back to the Boston morgue after leaving LA. "Fifty…..something?" she ventured.

"You're too kind. I'm now sixty-two." His voice carried an edge of heaviness that continued to alarm her.

"Yeah, but you know what they say…fifty is now the new thirty….so that makes you only really forty," she said with a light tone in her voice, hoping to get him to ease up.

"I don't feel forty. I feel sixty-two." The lines on his face suddenly seemed harsher…and the bad lighting in the restaurant made him look older. "I feel every minute of it." He paused to take a swallow of coffee. "I mean with everything I've been through at the morgue…and then Abby…and then you leaving and us never finding a replacement for you…it's just been a tough few years."

"I'm sorry, Gar," Jordan whispered, putting her hand softly over top of his. "I never meant to cause you any pain, it's just that I had to…"

"I know," he said, equally as soft and dropped his other hand over top of hers. "You had to do what you had to do…in order to get on with your life. And that meant working somewhere else other than the morgue, doing something that involved not seeing Woody everyday…"

She lowered her head. "I had to…I'm just sorry that …"

Garret shook his head. "I didn't invite you to breakfast for recriminations or repentance. I invited you here to offer you your old job back."

"My old job?"

"Look, I've been keeping track of you, Jordan. And while you've kept your cardio certification up and stellar, you've also kept your medical examiners license up, too."

"It always pays to have something to fall back on," Jordan said dryly, turning her attention to her pancakes.

"Well, it makes me think you still have more than just a passing interest in the field itself. I mean every time we do get together we talk about old cases you worked on, if the unsolved ones have been closed, or if there's an interesting case I'm working on now. And then you offer your opinion on it…sometimes even wanting to see the autopsy reports…"

"I guess once an ME, always an ME?"

"I sure as hell hope so, because I want to offer you your old job back with a promotion."

Jordan nearly spit her orange juice across the table. "But I have a good job…"

"I know. And I know you're good at it. But I've talked to Max. And he says you're not happy."

Jordan grimaced. Since Max had come back three years ago, he had kept a close eye on her…wondering if her decision to go back to cardiology was a wise one…was she really happy? Was she really moving on with her life?

And Max's conclusion had been no. No, Jordan wasn't really happy. She was just going through the motions of trying to put her past behind her. Max thought she wasn't really going to move on with her life until she faced the issues of her past. And the biggest issue was Woody.

_Like that was ever going to happen,_ she smirked to herself. Last she heard, Farm Boy and Tallulah were getting really serious. "Dad doesn't know everything, Garret," she said more sharply than she meant to.

"Yeah, but he knows you. And I believe him. So I'm prepared to offer you your old job back with the promotion to assistant chief ME."

Jordan looked up at him from her pancakes, alarm spreading across her face. "You've never had an assistant."

"I've never needed one before. I do now."

"Are things that hectic in the morgue?"

Garret paused for a moment, as if carefully considering how to answer her question. "Yeah. They are. Bug has gone back to England…so we're short an ME."

"Cambridge could send someone over…." Her voice betrayed her shock. _When did that happen? Have I been so out of the loop that I missed Bug leaving?_

"I know…but it's not just that…."

"Then what?"

"I want to retire early, Jor. I'm tired. I don't have the edge I once did and I don't want to get it back. I'm ready to turn it over to a younger Turk. And I want that Turk to be you."

Jordan swallowed the mouthful of pancakes she had. "I'm flattered….but…"

"I don't want an answer now. Think about it for awhile. I don't have to give the board my retirement date for another four months…and then we have another month to hire. I just want your name and your name only in the pot."

"But Garret…"

"Think about it. Seriously. I don't think crime is out of your blood … no matter how much you say you like pediatric cardiology and how much you talk through God through your stethoscope."


	2. Alice

**Chapter Two**

**Alice**

After her breakfast with Garret, Jordan left Tony's feeling unsettled…like someone had plowed up the field of her past and left all the relics of it out to bake in the hot afternoon soon…exposed to the elements…for all the world to see.

The morgue. While she thought about her friends often, the truth was once she had been hired by the Children's Hospital, she had never returned. She still saw Garret, Nigel, Lily, and Bug…but it was always after hours and at a neutral place such as the Beef n' Brew, or one of their apartments.

When she had closed and locked the door to her office that hot August morning, she made one promise to herself that she had kept: She didn't look back.

So she never returned to visit there or the Boston PD. There was no reason to. She was no longer a medical examiner. She was a pediatric cardiologist. She had never mentioned to anyone except her morgue family where she had gone, assuming Woody and the other detectives would hear of her career change through the ever growing inner office grapevine.

But Jordan had to admit, she was a little disappointed that as the days passed, Woody had made no effort to contact her. Then as the days slid into month and the months into a year, she had quietly and stoically accepted the fact thattheir one night together at the Lucy Carver Inn really did mean something….and that something was nothing at all. _It's a good thing we discovered it now instead of later…after we would have invested time and our hearts in it…I don't think Woody or I either one could handle anymore heartbreak in our lives…_Jordan thought as she wandered aimlessly through the streets of Boston, trying to put her past in perspective and see if it had any bearing at all on her future.

She was slightly shocked when her wandering feet took her right up to her father's house. Slightly surprised, but not much. If Max had been the one to inform Garret that he thought his daughter was unhappy in her role as a children's heart doctor, Jordan was damned and determined to find out just what made her father come to that conclusion. Taking a deep breath, she rang the bell. It wasn't too many moments later that Max swung open the door. "Good morning, Jahden….to what do I owe this early Saturday surprise?"

"Just in the neighborhood, Dad…."

Max eyed his daughter carefully. "Just in the neighborhood my ass. Come in and take off your coat and tell me what's really bothering you." Max held the door open for her.

And an hour later he held the door open for her to leave with Jordan feeling no more settled than when she entered. She had asked Max why he told Garret that she was unhappy.

"Because you are, sweetheart. Anyone that knows you can tell that."

"No, I'm not. I'm fine. Perfectly, wonderfully fine. I have a rewarding job that is fulfilling. I help children…."

"While never thinking about having your own…"

Jordan had snorted and pushed back her hair over one shoulder. "I'm getting too old to think about having my own kids…besides, I'm not in any kind of relationship now…"

"Which you would be if you had stayed at the morgue…."

"Dad…look…" The irritation in her voice had been evident.

"Look…I don't know what happened between you and Hoyt. I'm not sure I want to. I just know that what you and he have….is the real deal."

"Dad, if it was supposed to have happened, he would have called me way before now. It's over. He's moved on and I've moved on."

"And you're miserable…"

"I am not!"

The conversation had circled like that for an hour, Jordan trying to convince her father that she was fine with her present state in life and Max equally determined to prove her wrong. He pointed out her continued loss in weight, dark circles around her eyes, and quiet demeanor.

And she mentioned the fact that she was making more money, had job security, and was working with sick children.

Just as in the past, neither was willing to give an inch.

Jordan was nearly ready to call their argument a draw until Max had whispered in her ear as she was leaving, "Jordan, you've made countless children well and have brought their parents more happiness than they ever could have imagined. And that's well and good. But don't you think that it's time to find out what really makes _you_ happy? Life's too short…it's worth the search. I know." Then he had hugged her before she left.

Leaving her feeling just as unsettled as she had when she found herself in front of his house an hour ago. Determinedly she walked back to her apartment._ I am happy…I am happy….I am happy_, she kept repeating to herself…her mantra as she made her way back home.

_I am happy….Aren't I?_

* * *

The next week more than made up for the time Jordan had off. She was stationed in the emergency room…meaning while she was on the pediatric cardiology floor, if there was a child brought in to the emergency room with heart problems, she would have to take the call.

It was exhilarating and frightening all at the same time. Decisions had to be made in split seconds…decisions that concerned life and death. And with children, the atmosphere was even more high pressured. But it was Tuesday, and as Tuesdays go, it was a quiet night. Until about eight o'clock and her pager went off.

Bounding for the emergency room, one of the nurses clued her in. A little girl…irregular heartbeat….blue lips…Jordan quickly scanned record the EMT's had brought in with them before she entered the exam room. "Hi…I'm Dr. Jordan Cavanaugh," she said, her eyes still on the file in front of her. "I'm the cardiac pediatric specialist on call…" She raised her eyes to look at the child and nearly lost her composure.

Woody. Woody was sitting beside the child, nearly cradling the little girl's head in his arms. "Woody?"

"Jordan?" Her name escaped his lips in a startled whisper. The look of shock on his face told her that he had no idea she was now on staff at the Children's Hospital.

"Daddy?" The little girl asked softly.

This was all it took to bring Jordan back to the present. If they had anything left to say to each other, it would have to wait. The tiny person in front of her commanded her full attention. "Hi, sweetheart. My name is Dr. Cavanaugh. But you can call me Jordan."

The little girl smiled. "Jordan. My name is Alice…" And she looked like an Alice. Blonde hair in loose curls and blue eyes – Woody's eyes. And his dimples. _If Woody can't do anything else, he's made pretty babies,_ Jordan thought as she listened to the girl's heartbeat.

Woody watched Jordan carefully as she put the stethoscope to Alice's chest. For a few minutes there was silence as Jordan moved the instrument from one side to the other, intently listening to the child's heart. Finally, she pulled the plugs from her ears and faced Woody. "Has she been tired lately…unable to catch her breath?"

Woody nodded. "I've noticed it more in the last several days. I thought she was catching a cold or the flu. It's been going around her daycare center…"

Lowering her voice so Alice wouldn't catch the urgency in it, she continued. "How long have you known about her heart murmur?"

"Heart murmur?" The rise in his voice said it all. He didn't know.

"Yeah. Heart murmur. There's something definitely wrong …"

Woody ran his fingers through his hair. "Her pediatrician has never said a word…and she's in for regular check ups…"

Jordan sighed. She hated to second guess any doctor. "Well, it could have been faint and he may not have heard it. For whatever reason, it may not have acted up until now. But we need to keep Alice overnight and monitor her. Tomorrow I want to schedule a few tests for her…a sonogram and a few other things to let us know what we're facing."

The look on Woody's face said it all. _You've gone from an ME to this…just how qualified are you?_ "I understand if you'd rather have another doctor," she said quietly.

And was equally surprised when he shook his head. "The EMT told me Alice would be seeing a Dr. Cavanaugh, and that she was one of the best in the field of pediatric cardiology. No…I want Alice to see you."

Nodding, Jordan turned from Woody and pulled back the curtain around the exam room, telling the nurse to go ahead and admit Alice for at least overnight observation and monitoring. Then she wrote up the order for a series of tests to be run on the girl the next morning. "Alice," she softly said, going back over to the little girl, "you're going to get to stay with me here overnight….so I can watch you…then tomorrow, we're going to have a look at your insides to see what's wrong with you. I'll be with you the whole time and there's nothing to be afraid of….nothing's going to hurt you."

Alice nodded, and Jordan could see she was trying to be brave, but the tears in the child's eyes were nearly Jordan's undoing. "Do I have to stay here tonight by myself? Can Daddy stay?"

Jordan took a deep breath, noticing the way Woody's hands tightened around his daughter's. "Of course…We'll bring a bed into your room for him, so he'll be comfortable, too. And I'll be up to check on you again as soon as Nurse Rosea gets you settled."

"Promise?" Alice asked.

"I promise."

* * *

A stroll down the hallway of the cardiac unit in Boston's Children's Hospital belied the seriousness that lay behind many of the doors. The walls were painted in bright colors, not the sterile white of most hospitals. There was soft music and large playrooms filled with natural light. It was as homey as they could possibly make it…for children that were so sick…so sick they were sometimes dying.

That was one of the things that drew Jordan to Children's. Despite being a large institution, it worked hard to give their patients the feeling that they were each so special and so individual. She sighed as she neared Alice's door.

So Woody was a father now. From the looks of the child, with that blonde hair, Jordan would wager that Lu was the mother…but where was she now? Even if Lu was still with the Boston PD, surely they would have let her off to be at the hospital with her child. But from the way Alice had talked, she only mentioned her father staying with her. No mother.

Were Lu and Woody separated or divorced? Did Woody have full custody? Jordan pushed these questions away as she neared the door to Alice's room. Those issues would have to wait to be answered, if they even needed answering at all. She softly rapped on the door and then pushed it open, witnessing a sight she had seen all too many times, but now it particularly touched her heart.

Woody was sitting on the side of the bed, holding Alice's hand and gently stroking his daughter's hair. "Hi," she whispered, loathe to intrude on this loving scene.

"Hi…how's she doing, Jo? Tell me…be honest."

Jordan bit her lip. Her first instinct was to once again console him…ease the pain of a dear friend any way she could. But she couldn't do that…she was the doctor, Alice was the patient, and Woody was the parent. She owed them all honesty, if nothing else. "I don't know…her records say she turned blue and passed out…her heart has a murmur, but until we get the tests run tomorrow, I honestly can't tell you anything definite."

Woody nodded, but Jordan saw the muscle in his jaw tighten.

"I can tell you that she's in the best place to be treated…and that she'll receive excellent care." Jordan hoped this would ease his stress just a little. She could easily tell just how much pain he was in by his hunched shoulders and red-rimmed eyes.

He nodded again. "I know. It's just that…." She saw him take a deep breath, obviously fighting back the tears, "Nothing can happen to Alice, Jordan. She's all that I have left."


	3. Difficult Answers

**Chapter Three**

**Difficult Answers**

Jordan frowned as she looked at the results of Alice's tests. She had read and re-read the reports at least a dozen times. She had viewed the sonograms twice that often. She had the other cardiac pediatrician have a look at them just to make sure she was right.

And she was correct. Tragically correct. Little Alice not only had a faulty valve, her entire heart was damaged. If Jordan had not have known the test results were from a five year-old, she could have easily sworn they were from a much older person. Jordan sighed and absent-mindedly pushed a piece of stray hair behind her ears.

Alice had been in Children's Hospital for three days undergoing the tests. For three days, Jordan had watched Woody take care of his daughter, never really leaving…for three days he had waited for Jordan to give him some kind of answers.

She had the answers now … answers that Woody needed to hear, but were also going to be very difficult for him to process and accept. With a heavy heart, she made her way back down the hall of the cardiac ward to Alice's room. She gently tapped and waited until she heard Woody say, "Come in."

"Hi," she replied, quietly coming into the room. Alice was asleep and Jordan was reluctant to disturb her. "Can I talk to you? Nurse Rosea said she would stay with Alice while we're gone."

Woody nodded, not taking his eyes off his daughter. He pulled the sheets up a little closer around her shoulders and bent down to kiss Alice's forehead. "Sure," he murmured. "But I don't want to be gone too long. It scares her when she wakes up and I'm not here."

"It won't take long." She held the door of Alice's room open and led him down the hallway to a conference room where she had the results of Alice's tests and the sonogram and MRI pictures of her heart. "Sit down, Woody. I think I have some answers for you about what exactly is wrong with your daughter…"

Woody hesitated and ran a hand down his face. "You don't sound encouraging, Jo."

Jordan shook her head and sat down, motioning for him to sit across from her. "It is her heart, Woody. And I'll be honest with you, it's not all good." She pointed to a picture she had laid out in front of him. "This is a sonogram of healthy heart of a typical five year-old." She let him look it over for a moment. "And this is a picture of Alice's."

Woody looked at both blankly, as if trying to take in the differences, but his mind wouldn't let him.

"Do you see what's wrong?" she gently asked.

He continued to compare the two, finally shaking his head in frustration. "I'm sorry…I guess maybe I'm just too tired or stressed out…but yeah, Alice's heart is shaped a little differently…"

Jordan nodded. "The valves…the valves aren't formed right…they didn't grow correctly…but it's more than even that, Woody. It's like this child has the heart of a much, much older person…"

Woody felt his head spin for a minute, then taking a deep breath, he asked, "Why?"

"That I don't know. It could be genetic, it could be from an environmental factor…we just don't know…and right now that's not important. We need to treat her and try to make her better."

"How are you going to do that?"

She sat back in her chair and pressed her hands together. "There's medicine I'm going to put her on…blood thinners and such. That will make her heart not have to work quite so hard. Of course, that means that her blood also won't clot easily, so you're going to be careful with her as far as bumps, bruises, and falls are concerned."

"But that won't fix her heart…."

Jordan shook her head again. "No. You're right, it won't. What we're really facing is surgery. We could go ahead and replace the valves, but the rest of her heart is in such poor condition, it might not accept the replacements," she began.

"Or it might not allow her to survive the surgery," Woody finished for her, his eyes still glued to the test results.

Jordan nodded in agreement, and then took a deep breath. "That's right. So I wouldn't want to risk it. What Alice really needs…is a heart transplant."

She saw the tremor run through him. "When?" he asked. His voice was nearly inaudible.

"I don't know. We'll have to get a donor heart. It could take a day, a week, a month….or longer. I just don't know. I've already put her on the list…as soon as we get one, we'll let you know."

"Or it might not happen at all…." Jordan saw his eyes tear up.

"No…don't think like that, Woody. Whatever you do, don't let your mind go there. We're going to give her the best medicine and treatments we have available…keep her well and comfortable until we get a donor. You can't be negative…you have to think positive. At least for Alice's sake… do you hear me?"

Woody nodded, the tears now slipping down his cheeks unheeded. "Give her…give her whatever she needs….I just can't lose her, Jordan. She's all that I have left."

* * *

Jordan watched Alice from the door of the playroom on the cardiac hall. Once she had gotten the girl's medicine regulated, Jordan saw a huge change in Alice. Woody's daughter had gone from being a quiet, sickly child to being the vivacious, playful little girl she was meant to be. She not only had Woody's eyes, but also his dimples, which Alice used to her advantage. Jordan, along with most of the cardiac department's staff, soon found themselves wrapped around Alice's little finger.

_And she could be mine_. The thought crept into Jordan's mind unbidden. But it was the truth. Over the past week that Jordan had been with Alice, the knowledge that if things had worked out forher and Woody, Alice could very well be her daughter. It was a bittersweet thought, just as sharp as the vision of watching Woody interact with his daughter. _That could be my family…_

Only it wasn't and never would be. Jordan had surmised that whoever Alice's mother was, she and Woody must have had a nasty divorce. He never mentioned his former wife and Alice never breathed a word about her mother. So Jordan concluded that Woody and Lu…or whoever….must have split up shortly after Alice was born…and the woman either must have readily given Alice over to Woody, or Woody fought like hell to gain sole custody for whatever reason there was. And although Jordan hadn't had any interaction with Woody in the years since she had left the morgue, she still felt she knew him well enough to conclude he still wasn't a vengeful person. If he had fought for sole custody, the woman must have given him a good excuse to wage that prickly battle.

"Jordan!" Woody's voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

"Oh…hey…I was just going to come looking for you," She turned and gave him a smile, finding her breath still taken away by a pair of blue eyes and dimples that identically mirrored Alice's.

"I want to thank you," he said, absent-mindedly taking her hand and running his thumb over the back of her knuckles. "Alice is so much better…"

"We're not out of the woods yet," Jordan returned, holding up one hand in warning. "You know that, don't you?"

Woody nodded. "I know.."

"I mean she's better…and I'm going to let her go home in a few days, but you're going to have to be really careful with her. I don't particularly want her to go back in daycare right now…if she picks up any infection, that bacteria is going to head straight for the weakest place in her body and that's her heart valves…so meanwhile, you're going to have to make some plans. Is there anyone who can watch her at home while you work?"

Woody was silent for a moment, running his other had through his hair…_still his habit when he's thinking…_she thought, watching the gesture with more fondness than she cared to admit.

"I don't know…I'll have to make some calls…" he finally said.

Jordan hesitated for a moment…but if she didn't ask, Nurse Rosea would. "What about Alice's mother, Woody? Is she in the picture at all?"

"No."

Whatever Jordan was expecting…a revelation about exactly who was Alice's mother…what had happened…a stern reprimand from Woody for even asking…didn't happen. He simply said "no" quietly and apparently without much regret.

"I think I can call my cousin Julie…she lives in Cambridge now. She might can come down and help me for a few days until I can find an in-home sitter."

Jordan nodded. "That would be great, but I think for long-term, it might be good for Alice if you could hire a housekeeper that has a medical background. And I can write that up as a medical order so your insurance will help with the cost…"

Woody bit his lip and glanced over at Alice, still happily playing with her blocks, bears, and dolls. "I don't know anyone like that, Jordan. I don't even know where to begin to look for a housekeeper like that…what to ask when I'm interviewing them…hell, how do I even advertise for that?"

"Don't worry," Jordan placed a calming hand on his arm. "I'll get you a list of reputable housekeepers with a medical background. The human resources department here keeps stuff like that on file. I'll bring it by your office next week."


	4. Too Much Water

**Chapter Four**

**Too Much Water**

It has been said that of all the five sense, smell is the one that is most closely associated with memories.

And Jordan believed that with her whole heart as she pushed open the door to the Nineteenth Precinct and got her visitor's badge from the on-duty officer at the desk. Nothing had changed since she had been here before, all those many years ago. It smelled the same – that strange mixture of dust and floor wax, adrenalin and stale coffee. The odor brought up a thousand and one memories of cases, both solved and unsolved…time spent in interrogation rooms…the that heady rush she used to feel when a case was solved, won in court, and closed.

But dredged up with those thoughts were memories of him…working with Woody, celebrating the victories and consoling each other on the defeats. Dancing with him at the Pogue, kisses in a California desert, a stolen night at the Lucy Carver Inn…they flitted through her mind, blinking like fireflies as she rode the elevator up to his office. The on-duty officer told her that Woody was now chief of detectives. Somewhere along the way she had missed hearing that.

She missed him. She just hadn't realized how much until she saw him again at Boston's Children's Hospital

The years had come and gone, however, and they both had moved on with their lives in positive ways. She was now a pediatric cardiologist. He was now over the detectives and a father. _It's for the best. Like Woody said once, if we were together, we'd end up killing each other inside a week…_She mentally shook herself, shedding the memories of the past. Armed with the promised list of housekeepers with a medical background, she knocked at his office door.

"Come in." Why did his voice still send shivers up her spine?

"Hey…I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd give you that list I told you I'd bring by."

"Jordan…" Woody's face creased into a smile. It had been nearly four days since Alice had been dismissed from the hospital and Woody hadn't realized how much he missed Jordan until he wasn't seeing her daily again. "List?" The smile changed into a look of puzzlement.

"Of housekeepers with a medical background…." She held out a slip of paper as proof.

"Oh, yeah….now I remember. Come in…shut the door behind you."

Jordan slipped inside and closed the door, instantly blocking out the buzz and noise of a roomful of homicide detectives, and finding herself completely alone with Woody…for the first time in over seven years. She took a deep breath and surveyed his office. There were pictures of Alice everywhere at every age. Birth…christening….first steps…crayon drawings and other child-crafted art. In some of the pictures, Jordan noticed a petite, blonde woman. It wasn't Lu, but Jordan would bet her lunch that the woman was Alice's mother – the blonde hair and shape of the face matched up. But there were no recent pictures of Alice with the woman…in fact, after a picture that declared it was Alice's first birthday, Jordan saw none of the woman and the girl together.

"Sit down…take a load off," Woody said, bringing Jordan out of her thoughts. "Let me see that list."

Jordan handed him the list and sank down in a chair in front of his desk, looking at the pictures, but trying not to seem so obvious about it.

"Are all these women available to go to work immediately?' Woody asked, once more bringing her back to the reason she had stopped by the Nineteenth Precinct to begin with.

"Uh, yeah. Sure. Or so my human resources department tells me…"

Woody nodded and sat the list under a paperweight on top of his desk. "Good. I'll start calling and setting up the interview process after lunch. Hopefully by next week, I'll have someone and Julie can go home."

"Julie?"

"My cousin. Remember?"

Jordan nodded. "I'm sorry…."

Woody chuckled. "I bet you see so many patients now that it's hard for you to keep everything straight."

"Sometimes. It's just being back here…"

"Kind of overwhelms you?" Woody softly asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah…"

"Would you be offended if I told you it was good to have you back? Even though this is just a professional visit?"

Jordan shook her head. "No. It doesn't offend me. And thanks."

Woody sat back in his chair. "You're welcome, but I sincerely mean it. It is good to have you back. I just wish…I just wish you were back in the medical examiner capacity. I still haven't found anyone as good as you were or anyone that I worked as well with…"

Jordan lowered her head. "Thanks again…but I seem to remember we had more than our fair share of _disagreements_, too."

Woody grinned. "We did. But that doesn't change the fact that you were the best…and I miss working with you, Jo. I miss you."

Her head snapped up then and she looked him in the eyes. They were twinkling at her…the same way they used to all those years ago, but the sincerity he claimed was there, too – and an unexpected look that took her breath away. "I, uh…Some days I miss it, too. My old job…us working together."

Woody sighed and ran a hand through the back of his hair. "If you really do, I'm sure Garret would be more than happy to give you your key back to the morgue…"

Jordan lowered her eyes again. "I don't think that will happen anytime soon."

"I don't know. Rumor is that he's considering retirement pretty seriously. I can't imagine him wanting anyone to fill his shoes but you."

"I'm a pediatric cardiologist now, Woody."

Woody nodded, agreeing with her argument. "I know…but rumor also has it you keep your medical examiners license up-to-date, too."

"Bad habits die hard, I guess…"

He sighed then and leaned forward. "Too much water underneath a bridge you've burned to come back, huh Jo?"

"Something like that."

"I understand…and some bridges just can't be repaired, can they?"

* * *

Woody's comment rang in her ears after she had left his office, slowly making her way downstairs and out the front door. _Just a lot of water underneath a bridge I've burned_…she mused as she blinked in the bright sunlight of a late winter's day in downtown Boston.

_Some bridges just can't be repaired, can they?_

Jordan wasn't sure. She wasn't sure if the bridges in her life could be repaired or rebuilt.

Or if she even wanted them to. She had a good life now…in a field she enjoyed. And yeah, sure…when there was that odd, strange homicide that made the front page of the Boston paper, she had to admit, she felt a rush…a need to find out what happened. But that was always tempered with the knowledge that now she saved lives on a daily basis. Young lives. Lives that were so vital and important to everyone – not just their parents.

_No, I've moved on…I'm past this and over him. I'm glad that I can help Alice, but this part of my life…morgues and medical examiners, homicides and detectives…this part of my life is over._

But her feet had automatically taken her across the street to the morgue. She stared at the sign on the side of the building. _Medical Examiners Office…for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts_. Holding her breath, she pushed the door open and took the elevator to the sixth floor.

"Sweet Mary in the manger, looked what the cat dragged in," was the first voice that greeted her as soon as the elevator doors slid open.

"Afternoon, Nigel…" Jordan responded as the tall man caught her up in a hug.

"What brings you back home?" he asked, skeptically raising one eyebrow. Jordan had not been back to her old office since she had left them that hot August morning.

_Home? When will everyone accept the fact that this part of my life is over? _That thought ran through her mind before she could form a reply.

"Jordan!"

She whirled around in the opposite direction from Nigel to find out who called her name. "Lily…."

"Long time, no see. What brings you back?" the grief counselor asked.

"I …I…had to stop by Woody's office to drop off a list of housekeepers with medical training…next thing I knew I was crossing the street to come back over here."

"I heard you worked wonders with little Alice," Nigel said. "Good work, Dr. Cavanaugh…"

Jordan nodded. "She's doing better, but she's not out of danger yet…"

"I know. Woody told us that you had put her on the list for a heart transplant," Lily rejoined.

"That's too bad, she's such a sweet kid…" Nigel added.

Before Jordan could agree, she heard her voice being called one more time.

"Jordan….it's good to see you…" Garret said, coming out of his office. "How's it going?"

"Good…"

"She stopped by on her way back from Woody's office…she had to give him a list of housekeepers that would look after Alice," Lily explained.

"Oh. And I thought she had come by just to see us…" Garret teased. "Seeing as she hasn't been back since she resigned…"

"Uh…" Jordan began, sounding lame and sorry even to herself.

"Love…got a minute? I've got this great new toy in the lab. I know you'd enjoy seeing it…"

Jordan found herself being dragged reluctantly back into trace and autopsy…looking over Nigel's vast array of new toys and gadgets…finding herself being caught up in conversations over cases and evidence…autopsy results and lab reports. The next thing she knew it was five o'clock and everyone began to get ready to go home.

"Join us at the Beef n' Brew for a pint and a bite?" Nigel asked, loathe to let his friend go.

"Come on, Jordan. We haven't seen you in a while," Garret added. "It'll be good to get caught up on things other than work-related issues."

Jordan swallowed hard. The entire day had been a bit like being pushed through a mirror…seeing what could have been on the other side of her life. A family with Woody…still working at the morgue…training to take Garret's place…being with her friends…_This part of my life is over…over…over. _She repeated the mantra firmly to herself. "I'm sorry, I can't. I have the early shift tomorrow…I need to get home and get some rest. Maybe next time?"

"Yeah, next time," Garret said, softly, noting the confused look on her face with some concern. He could tell the memories were getting to her. "My offer still stands, Jordan," he added.

She simply nodded before she took the elevator downstairs and made her way to the visitors' parking lot, surprised to find her hand shaking as she pushed the unlock button on her SUV's key tab. _This is not good,_ she thought. _I really don't need to do this again...I can see my friends…even Woody…just not here. He was right, I know. Woody was right. There's too much water underneath bridges I've burned for me to ever come back._


	5. Questions of the Heart

**Chapter Five**

**Questions of the Heart**

A cold, snowy Boston winter gave way to a wet but sunny Boston spring that year.

And Jordan found the days of her life slipping back into a safe routine again after her unsettling visit to the morgue. Her life was hectic, as the hospital increased her patient load, but strangely enough the fulfillment she once found in the cardiac pediatric field was diminishing. Alarmed, she chalked the feeling up to more patients and less time for herself.

But the emotion still bothered her, stirring up the anxiety that had lingered after her trip to the morgue and Woody's office – that maybe she had made a mistake in leaving the medical examiners' office. Maybe she had never faced her problems and issues with Woody head on, and if she had, Alice could be her daughter, and her life would have taken another road.

Still worried over this emotional inventory, she had wrangled a few days off her work schedule, hoping that some time to unwind would help her regain her perspective and her enthusiasm for pediatric cardio again. Determined to relax, one warm spring morning, she had donned her bikini and lazily sunbathed on her deck, absent-mindedly listening to an oldies station on the radio while trying to catch up on her reading.

"_So tired waiting for you…." _The lyrics wafted out into the warm, early morning spring air. The Kinks. Jordan reached out her hand to slam the radio off…but instead found her fingers only hovering over the off button before her arm dropped helplessly back into her lap. _"So tired waiting for you…."_

Los Angeles. Faye. Woody. The one-armed man. Memories of the past once again swirled around in her mind like so many left-over autumn leaves. He gave up his Kinks tickets for her…he went to LA and put his Florida trip in jeopardy for her. He had teased her, cajoled her, and helped her free a wrongly accused, innocent woman.

Woody did that for her. No one else had ever done the things for her that he had…no one.

And all he asked in return was to hold her tighter.

Jordan swallowed hard and fought back the tears for a moment. The last notes of the song drifted away as soon as the song was over. Her questing fingers fumbled for the control button and flipped the radio off.

_Maybe all you need, Jordan, is for someone to hold you tighter…_

* * *

The days continued to grow warmer and before Jordan knew it, Alice was back in Boston Children's Hospital for her three month check up. The young girl was being carefully monitored, with the hospital, her father, and transplant team knowing that Alice had to maintain her good health incase a heart became available. If Alice was as healthy as she could possibly be, the transplant stood a better chance of being successful.

Jordan knew Woody and his daughter was coming…she had prepared herself…prepared herself not only to look the past in the eye and deal with the fact she had thrown away her future with this man, but also to look ahead. Somehow not only try to continue to help Alice until a heart became available, but also reconcile her relationship with Woody back to a solid friendship. She didn't dare wish for anything more. After all, at some point in his life, Woody had fallen in love and that relationship had produced a daughter. No matter how badly that marriage may have ended, at one time, Woody had moved on enough with his life that he had put Jordan behind him and taken someone else as his wife.

And despite the fact that the union had produced a darling little girl, it still left the bitter taste of "what if's" in Jordan's mouth.

Pushing these thoughts aside, she picked up Alice's case file before going in to examine the young girl. Alice had been brought in earlier in the week for blood work and Jordan wanted to go over the enzyme report. _Everything is looking good, for the condition her heart is in,_ Jordan mused, glancing over the reports again. At least she had that good news to share with Woody. She stood up from her desk and started to leave her office to meet them in the exam room.

But there was more paperwork in the file this time. More must have been added since Alice was first admitted to Boston's Children's Hospital months ago. She sat back down to review the file again…she hadn't ordered anymore tests…curiously she looked at the added sheets. Family information.

She had every right to read it. She was Alice's doctor. But yet she couldn't shake the feeling that somehow she was intruding on a part of Woody's life she had no right to know. Jordan closed her eyes for a minute, then opened them and deliberately read the family history. _Father – Calvin C. Hoyt (whereabouts unknown)… Mother – Melissa A. Stephens (deceased) …Legal Guardian – Woodrow Wilson Hoyt (paternal uncle)_.

* * *

Jordan felt herself shaking from head to toe as she pushed open the door of the exam room, but Alice's bright smile served to vanquish any emotional upheaval Jordan was feeling at the time. She listened to the girl's heart, reviewed the sonograms done earlier, and then sent Alice out to the play room with Nurse Rosea.

"How's she doing, Jordan?" Woody asked.

Jordan could read the anxiety in his eyes. If Woody didn't know where Cal was, and Alice's mother was dead, Jordan knew why Woody had told her Alice was all he had left.

Alice was his sole surviving family member. Any unsettled feelings she had towards him for not being straight up with her from the beginning melted under his obvious duress. "She's doing as well as could be expected with a heart in her condition…and much better than I expected," Jordan hedged.

"Well, that's good, right?"

Jordan nodded. "But it still doesn't negate the fact that Alice needs a transplant and sooner rather than later. The longer she's able to maintain her health, the better…she'll have less problems with the transplant, but …"

"She won't be able to do that forever…"

Jordan nodded again. "I'm sorry, Woody."

Woody sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Why didn't we know about this earlier?"

"I don't know. I do know that Dr. Peterson, her regular pediatrician, is a good man. If he had remotely thought anything was seriously wrong, Alice would have been in here long before now."

Woody nodded and carefully considered the tile floor.

"Can I ask you a question, Wood?"

"Yeah, sure. Anything."

"Did Melissa or Cal either one have a heart problem?"

Jordan watched as the impact of her words hit him hard…he looked like a balloon with a slow leak as she saw his shoulders slump and he sank into a nearby chair and sat down, leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and dropped his head into his hands. Taking a deep breath, he asked, "When did you find out?"

"About a half an hour before I came in to examine Alice. Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

Woody dropped his hands from his face to look her in the eye. "I don't know… I guess I felt that it didn't matter. Alice has been mine for so long that I feel like she _really is_ my daughter in every sense of the word, and she doesn't know any different. She's called me 'Dad' ever since she could talk."

Jordan nodded. "I understand…but in order for me to really help Alice, I need to know…did Melissa or Cal have a heart condition?"

"Calvin, no. To my knowledge, his heart has always been fine….but Melissa, well, that's hard to say, Jo."

"Then tell me what you know."

"It's not a pretty story, Jordan. Cal was working in New Jersey…a bouncer at some techno club. He met Melissa and they hit it off, in more ways than one. Seems that Cal and Melissa enjoyed a mutual interest in recreational drugs…Cal knocked Melissa up and then dropped out of sight. Melissa was pregnant and broke, but she remembered that Cal had told her that he had a brother that worked for the Boston Police Department. Needless to say, she found her way to Boston and looked me up.

"She was obviously pregnant by this time…about four, maybe five months along, but she needed to get clean…she was still using. So I put her in rehab…saw her through with withdrawals and helped get her clean. Then I told her she could live with me until the baby was born. That way I could keep an eye on her…make sure she stayed clean for hers and Alice's sake.

"Meanwhile, I tried to find Cal…I called everyone I knew in Kewuanne to see if he had run home, but he hadn't. It was like he disappeared from the face of the earth…but honestly, I didn't try too hard. Melissa was clean by then. I didn't want her getting involved with him again…I was afraid he'd drag her down. And I sure as hell didn't want my niece brought home to a family of junkies. So after three or four half-hearted attempts at finding him, I conveniently gave up. Sure, Cal should know he was a father, but in my opinion, being a sperm donor doesn't make you a daddy."

He was talking then, looking sightlessly in front of him, as if he was spilling everything that happened to him in the past seven years in front of her for her to judge and set straight…reassure him that he had done the right thing. She opened her mouth to confirm his actions, but he kept on talking.

"Alice born seemingly healthy, but the drugs, pregnancy, and labor had taken a toll on Melissa. She was never really well after that…she and Alice moved in with me and I took care of them both…Melissa died shortly after Alice's first birthday. She knew she was dying….she made me Alice's legal guardian months before she passed away…" His head dropped back into his hands then and if possible his shoulders slumped even more, as if he had dropped the weight of his world in that exam room with the wordless hope that he prayed she would help him bear the burden.

And she would. Quietly, Jordan walked over to Woody and knelt in front of him, easing his hands away from his face and gently wiping his tears away with her fingers. She could picture Woody the doting father…getting up with Alice at night…seeing the baby through teething and toddling, potty training and learning the alphabet. The man in front of her had more compassion than anyone she knew. "You did good, Woody. No one could do better," she managed to choke out around her own tears.

"Thanks, but…"

"There is no 'but' about it." Jordan continued to stroke his cheek with one hand and let the other slip through his hair. "You did a great job. But sometimes when people use for a long time, there are some irreversible side effects. Sounds like Melissa had a few…what was her drug of choice?"

"Crack…sometimes ecstasy. "

Jordan nodded. "Then that explains a lot."

"It does?"

Jordan bit her lip. Her past and present were now converging. "Did you have an autopsy done on her?"

"No…it just seemed unnecessary at the time, what with Alice and all…"

"Could I see her medical record?"

"Sure...I'll call her doctor tomorrow and get it faxed to you. Why?"

"One of the things that has been bothering me about Alice is just where her heart condition came from. If it was genetic, then the chances of her body attacking a new heart and damaging itare good…and that could possibly lower her position on the transplant list…but if the damage to Alice's heart was due to her mother using drugs….and that otherwise she would have been born with a normal, healthy heart, then that gives good reason to believe that she will be a fine transplant recipient…."

"So even though Melissa got clean…"

Jordan nodded. "The damage to Alice was already done….but you probably saved hers and Melissa's life, Farm Boy. You should be proud…" She lowered her hand from his hair and took both of his hands in hers. "You did good….you did the right thing, as usual. Alice is a very lucky little girl to have you in her life."

Woody lowered his head, looking at his hands held tightly in hers. Jordan felt one of his tears splash on her fingers. "I just want her well, Jordan…completely well. She doesn't deserve this."

"And neither do you. I'll do everything in my power, Woody, to help you and Alice. Everything. You get me Melissa's medical records and I'm going to get on the phone to the National Transplant Board this afternoon. I won't leave any stone unturned and I'll talk to whomever I have to until I'm blue in the face…"

Woody squeezed her hands before standing to go. "Thanks Jordan. When the EMT's told me that night that Alice was going to be in the best hands in Boston, they weren't lying. There's no way I can ever repay you…"

Jordan felt a blush rise to her cheeks. "Just wait until you get my bill…" she deadpanned.

Woody chuckled. For the first time in weeks, he felt lighter. Hopeful. Like maybe there was a pot of gold for him at the end of the rainbow….hell, now maybe he even had a rainbow…. "Still, thanks." He turned to go, but stopped with his hand on the door knob and looked back at her. "You'll never know how angry I was at you when you left the morgue…"

Her surprised look told him she had no idea.

"I was. I was furious. You left with no warning…without a look back or an explanation…no phone call…no nothing. You were just … gone. Meanwhile, I was going through everything with Melissa and Alice. But you know, my priest always said that everything happens for a reason. And if the reason you had to leave was so that now you'd be here to save Alice, then I understand…although I've missed you like hell, it all makes sense now…Thanks, Jordan." He opened the door then and went down the hall to the playroom to find Alice.

Jordan sighed and closed the file in front of her. She was uncomfortable with the connotation that God had used her to save Alice's life, when as far as she was concerned when she left the morgue, she had done so to put her past behind her – including Woody – and go on with her future. There was no altruism involved…only selfish planning.

She was even more uncomfortable with the fact that three months after she had left, Cal had called her, trying to get Jordan to help him reconnect with his brother.

And she had blown Cal off…telling him she no longer worked at the morgue and no longer saw Woody.

What would have happened if she had helped the two brothers reconnect? Would Cal have gotten clean with Melissa and both of them made a home for Alice?

Or would Cal have dragged Melissa even further down a spiral of drug use…and ended Alice's life long before it had even started?

Jordan shivered at the thought. _Maybe I've already saved Alice's life once…_


	6. Issues of the Heart

**Chapter Six**

**Issues of the Heart**

The wet, sunny Boston spring gave way to a hot and muggy summer.

And Jordan still found herself on the fast-paced treadmill at Boston's Children's Hospital's cardiac unit. She continued to see patient after patient, often working twelve to fifteen hour shifts with few breaks.

She had been through one of those days…days that seemed to run on adrenalin and caffeine – when her pager went off just as she was putting her coat on to go home. The code read cardiac emergency. Without thinking twice, she called down to the emergency room. "Who's the patient with the code?" she asked.

"Alice Hoyt."

With her heart in her throat, Jordan didn't even wait for the elevator. Taking the stairs two at a time, she pushed her way through the emergency area to the room where Alice was. Quickly glancing at the nurse and then at a white-faced Woody, she quietly asked the resident on-call what was the status. "The girl just about coded," he responded, still monitoring Alice's vitals.

_Shit…What happened? She was fine a few weeks ago…._Swallowing her own panic, Jordan tried to ease Alice's and Woody's fears. "Hey, sweetheart," she murmured to Alice. "It's Jordan…remember me?"

Alice nodded. _That's a good sign…_

"Okay…I need to take a few more pictures of your heart…but this time we're bringing the machine to you…"

The next couple of hours went by in a blur to both Jordan and Woody. More sonograms were taken, each one now confirming what Jordan feared. Alice needed a transplant and she needed a transplant now.

But transplants were beyond her area of expertise. However, Dr. Baines, one of the leading specialists, was on staff at Boston's. Determinedly she picked up the hospital phone and called him at home, quickly explaining the critical situation and Alice's need. "She needs a heart…bad, Lewis," she told Dr. Baines.

"Okay … okay," yawned a now awake Dr. Baines. "I'm on the phone now with the National Transplant Board…and I'll be at the hospital in fifteen. Have the nurses get the girl a room and the dad hunker down for the night. If we have any luck…"

"Yeah. I know."

* * *

After making sure Alice was in her room and the nurses were getting her ready for surgery, Jordan made her way out to the waiting area. Technically, she was no longer Alice's doctor…Lewis Baines was. But that didn't lessen any of the concern she had for Alice or for Woody. She planned on staying with Woody until the surgery was over…and Alice was stable.

And Woody was okay.

So armed with two large coffees, one laced with caramel and extra sugar, she found him in the waiting area, nervously pacing. "Hi," she said, handing him his coffee. "Thought you might could use the company and the caffeine."

"Thanks," Woody responded, gratefully taking the coffee and accepting the company. "Both are appreciated. I have a feeling it's going to be a long night."

Jordan nodded and looked over Woody's shoulder, out the window to a dark, wet Boston night. She eyed the weather with mixed emotions, because she knew what may not have dawned on Woody yet.

Transplants can be a bitch. For the recipient, it's a chance that, if all goes well and the body doesn't reject the new organ, health will be regained and lives return to some kind of normalcy.

But for the donor, it meant someone would have to die. Another child would have to die in order for Alice to get a heart. Jordan took a deep breath and fought back her tears. She loved Alice, and God knows she wanted the little girl to get a heart, but the cold, hard facts still hurt. Someone would have to die in order for Alice to live. And in order for the heart to be compatible with Alice's size and weight, more than likely that donor would have to be another child. Sighing, she said without thinking, "It's a wet night…maybe we'll get lucky."

"Lucky?"

Woody's voice brought Jordan back to the reality that she had spoken her thoughts out loud.

"I mean…." Her voice faltered.

"What do you mean, lucky, Jordan?" He walked over and took her by the shoulders, looking her in the eyes. "Does Dr. Baines know what he's doing?"

She nodded furiously. "Lewis is the best. I wouldn't have turned Alice over to him if he wasn't…."

"Good…but what _did_ you mean? What does luck have to do with this? I'd like the odds to be a little more in favor of skill than luck."

Swallowing hard, Jordan looked down at the coffee cup in her hands for a moment, composing herself and trying to figure out the best way to tell Woody the cold, hard facts of transplants…something he obviously hadn't thought about. Quietly, without raising her eyes, she asked, "Where do you think heart transplants come from, Woody?"

"Donors, of course."

"And you know that heart donors…"

"Have to have agreed to donate their organs upon their death…yeah, I know…they explained that to me when I agreed to be an organ donor."

"So where do you think Alice's heart is going to come from?"

"I don't know…an accident victim…I'm not sure. Why?"

Jordan looked up at him then…those blue eyes a mixture of concern for his daughter and questions for her. "Do you know how old this victim will have to be?"

It hit him then. She saw the impact on him as if she had punched him in his solar plexus herself. "It will have to be another child, won't it?"

Nodding, Jordan continued. "She's too small for an adult heart. The donor will have to be another child…or a young teenager."

"Oh my God…"

"So when I said we might get lucky….tonight's a wet night.."

"A child could be in an accident…" his voice trailed off and he sank down to the couch and put his head in his hands.

Jordan nervously sat down beside him…not sure of how to comfort him… "I'm sorry, Woody. But you needed to know the odds…."

He nodded, still trying to pull himself together. "What kind of job do you have here, Jordan?"

"Pardon me?"

"You heard me…what kind of job do you have here….one that depends on someone else dying in order to be successful. At least in the morgue you were a voice for the dead…here you're just waiting on someone to die in order to further your own success…."

"Woody…it's not like that at all. I do plenty of other work besides dealing with transplant patients."

"But it could all boil down to another child dying so another could live…how do you deal with that? How do you deal with _yourself_?"

"Woody…I …."

"I just can't fathom…"

"Woody…I want Alice to live… to grow into a healthy adult…to be with you, as your daughter…with a normal life span. I don't chose who dies…call it fate, a higher power, whatever, but _I don't chose who dies and who lives…and who gets the heart_. That's beyond my control. I'm just trying to bring the families of those that have lost love ones a little comfort in the fact that their child didn't die in vain ….that a part of them is living on…and I'm trying to help those who receive the transplants live a normal life…if that's dealing with myself, then I'm guilty as charged."

Woody opened his mouth to respond, but whatever he wanted to say would have to wait. A voice from the door way interrupted them.

"Dr. Cavanaugh…Mr. Hoyt…we've found a heart for Alice," Dr. Baines said from the entrance of the waiting area. "The nurses are prepping her for surgery. I thought you may want to go speak to your daughter before we take her in…"


	7. My Heart Must Have Been Broken

**Chapter Seven**

**My Heart Must Have Been Broken**

Jordan nervously tapped her foot on the floor. She was early…at least a good half an hour early, but she had to get out of the pediatric cardio unit. So as soon as things had calmed down from the morning rush, she had clocked out to take an early, and a long, lunch.

Her job, that had once been so fulfilling, was getting less and less so each day. Her schedule grew more hectic, her shifts grew longer, and her work load grew heavier. In her mind, an early and a long lunch was the least the hospital owed her.

Plus it was her birthday. And Garret had called her last night, asking if he could take her out to lunch to celebrate—something very low key, he had told her. "I promise I won't tell the waitress it's your birthday, so no one will sing to you or make you wear a funny hat…or give you extra dessert…unless you're into that kind of thing now."

Jordan had chuckled and told him, no. She would go out to lunch with him, but as far as her birthday went, her feelings hadn't changed any.

She hated birthdays. All they signified was that one more year in her life had passed and she was still searching for what defined her…what made her complete…what she wanted out of life.

Seven years ago, she would have sworn to you it was a career as a ME and a relationship with Woody. Only he had slowed down the relationship to a crawl and then it coasted to a complete stop.

A year ago, she would have sworn she had found it. A career as a pediatric cardiologist. She was saving lives…helping children.

Three months ago, she would have told you how she had once again held her breath and hoped for the best when hers and Woody's path crossed again.

But she had hoped in vain. After the heart transplant, Alice's medical care was turned over to Dr. Baines. Jordan no longer saw the young girl…and no longer saw Woody. After that rainy, muggy Boston night….that she had sat with Woody for hours and held his hand as they waited on the results of Alice's surgery, Jordan had chose to fade back into the woodwork. She inquired about Alice to Dr. Baines…but didn't feel free enough to come to the girl's room. Woody had left her with the distinct impression that he couldn't reconcile himself to her new medical career—one that "depended on someone dying…so that someone else can live – especially kids."

"I understand what you do and why you do it…I just can't see anyone waiting around hoping a child dies so that another one lives."

"Woody…it's not like that," she had argued. "I don't choose…I just respond…"

But despite the fact that Alice's transplant had gone well, her body accepted it, and the girl was doing better than ever expected, Jordan felt rejected by Woody once more.

And her heart refused to take it. It had been broken once by him and had never properly healed. All it took was one look in his blue eyes and the band aid was ripped off…exposing the scar that had never mended…raw and sensitive.

The jingle of the bell over the door brought her out of her reverie. It was Garret. A small wave of her hand motioned him over to where she was sitting. "Hey…" he greeted her, taking off his coat in the process.

"Hi yourself. How's it going?"

"I should ask you that. You're the one that's a year older…" he teased.

Time melted away. It was if she had never left the morgue…they had never stopped working together. Jordan found herself relaxing more than she anticipated. The stress rolled off her shoulders in waves. "Thanks," she told Garret as lunch was winding down.

"For what?"

"Lunch…the conversation…a good time," she chuckled.

"Glad you enjoyed it," Garret said, wiping his mouth. "I did want to take you out for your birthday, but I had an ulterior motive."

"Ulterior motive?"

"I'm hiring for an assistant now, Jordan. Someone to work into the position of chief ME when I retire. And I want that person to be you."

"Garret…"

"I'm serious, Jordan. I want you. And so does Walcott and half the Boston homicide detectives. There hasn't been anyone as good as you in the morgue since you left. You've kept your medical examiner's license up-to-date. There's nothing to keep you from returning to the morgue except your own stubbornness and unwillingness to admit that you belong back there."

"But…"

"Think about it, Jordan. I don't have to have an answer right now…but I need one soon. One way or the other. Will you or won't you?"

Jordan sighed and stirred her tea with the straw that was in it. Garret was right. There was an unsettled feeling in her…that something wasn't right…that cardiac care wasn't as fulfilling as it used to be…that she missed the morgue and the people there more than ever…that she missed being an ME.

And that rippling feeling in her soul had been building ever since Woody and Alice had found their way into her emergency room.

But still…she had a lot of time and training invested at Boston Children's Hospital. She had patients. Responsibilities. Open cases.

What should she do? Ride out the tidal wave of emotion that Woody had stirred up … or recognize that these emotions were valid and do something about them?

"Okay…" she responded, blowing out a sigh she had been holding for the last five years. "Give me twenty-four hours and you'll have your decision. One way or the other."

* * *

Twenty-four hours.

After Jordan left the restaurant, she found herself walking through a familiar section of Boston. Pearle Street….Not much had changed in her old apartment building. Still the same big, red doors…in a neighborhood that was slightly shabby and wholly individualistic. That was one of the things that had attracted her to it after her father got rid of the snakes…The memory of it brought a smile to her face…as well as other memories that begin to slide in her mind. The locket Woody had brought back to her. The Sickboy 23 case. Cozy dinners watching TV and cuddling on the couch.

Were those days all behind her?

Six blocks up north and two over west was Woody's place. She imagined that since he had Alice now, he had long given her his one-bedroom apartment. His bachelor pad…with the ping pong table.

Were they ever that close? Really that close? Jordan shook her head. She really didn't know. It didn't seem like it. How could two people that were seemingly destined for each other…so much alike they were like two sides of the same coin…end up so far apart?

And so angry with each other?

Before Jordan realized it, she was backtracking around all the corners she had turned in her life. The park where they used to run. The diner where they had more lunches and dinners and bad cups of coffee than she could count. The Pogue. _I miss dancing with him…I miss him…I miss my old life…is it too late to get it back?_

The Nineteenth Precinct.

That was the next place her reminiscing feet took her. Woody's police department. She stood for a moment outside the building, shivering slightly in the autumn wind. The last time she was there was to give him a list of housekeepers…and he had admitted being angry with her for leaving the way she did.

When she had left the morgue for the children's hospital, she thought it didn't matter to him.

She had been wrong.

But that didn't negate his anger. And if she returned as chief ME, she'd have to work with Woody. He was chief of detectives now. Could she handle having her heart break a little every day?

She wasn't sure. But at least she'd be near him…she would be able to see him and Alice.

And maybe that was better than nothing…if she could deal with the emotional pain.

"Hey…what are you doing here?" a gentle voice asked just as she was turning to go.

Drawing a deep breath to stave off the tears, she swallowed hard before she turned to face him. "Nothing….nothing much….I just had lunch with Garret."

"Did you now?"

She nodded. "He took me out for my birthday…"

"Ah…it _is_ your birthday. Happy birthday, Jordan."

"Th…thanks…He's offered me his job, Woody," she said in a rush…needing to tell him now, or she was afraid she'd chicken out.

"Really? That's good."

"It is?"

Woody nodded and reached out to brush a spastic strand of hair out of her face that the wind kept whipping in her eyes. "It is good. I'd be glad if you came back, Jo. Things haven't been the same since you left. There hasn't been another ME nearly as good as you are….and I ….I miss you." The soft smile that followed the admission left her no doubt that he was telling her the truth.

"You do? I thought that after that night in the hospital.."

"The night of Alice's surgery?"

Jordan nodded. "I thought…well….that frankly, you didn't like me…hated me, to be exact…because of …my job. What I had to do…"

Woody shook his head. "No.."

"When did you stop being angry with me?" she asked, eyeing the sidewalk with sudden interest. "Was it because of Alice?"

"No." His hand moved from her ear where he had tucked the errant strand of hair to softly cup her cheek. "I stopped being angry with you long before that…I just didn't have the guts to admit it…it's a male thing, you know…never admit you're wrong to the woman you…"

"Hoyt!" Seely called from the door of the precinct. "There you are. I couldn't raise you on the radio. Oh…hey, Jordan…." Matt looked between the two with interest. He obviously had interrupted and something they wished he hadn't. The looks Woody was throwing at him should put him under the sidewalk. "Anyway…they've caught the Peterson suspect, Hoyt. He's in interrogation room three…."

"Good," Woody said, his eyes and hand never leaving Jordan's face. "I'll be there in a minute."

"Okay…" Matt replied, before ducking back in the door. "Good seeing you again Dr. Cavanaugh…"

Jordan waved back to the ill-timed interruption.

"Jordan…" Woody began again.

"I know…you have to go….but tell me…how's Alice?"

Woody continued to look in her eyes….recognizing the conflicting emotions swirling there. "No…I don't have to leave yet," he said softly. "But Alice is just fine now, Jordan."

"That's great…I'll see you around." She tried to step backwards out of his grip.

But was completely unsuccessful. His hand cupped her face a little more tightly. "Come home, Jordan. This is where you belong. Here…with the morgue and the police department….and me."

* * *

She never really recalled her drive back to her office at the hospital. She was running late…far later than she realized. She would have to hustle to get back and see her patients on time.

She bounded in the door and checked her schedule. "You're late," whispered Nurse Rosea. "Dr. Comings is pitching a fit. He had to see one of your patients…"

"It's my birthday and I told everyone I'd be gone later than usual."

"Yeah, well evidently no one got the memo but me…."

Jordan sighed and looked over her appointments. Five more had been added since she left to go to lunch. She'd be lucky if she got out of the hospital before eight. She groaned inwardly.

This was not why she became a pediatric cardiologist. Hell, this wasn't even why she became a ME. She did both to try to help families and find personal fulfillment…whether that was chasing her own demons away or just bringing closure to some tragedies.

And of the two professions, the medical examiner's office suddenly seemed a lot saner. She chewed her bottom lip for a minute. _Not to mention…Woody…He must have broken my heart …at least three or four times…but for the life of me, I can't remember why. All I know is that I want another chance…at being a ME and being with him…_

With a determined motion, she flipped open her cell phone and punched five on speed dial. He picked up on the second ring. "Garret…."


	8. Shut Up and Kiss Me

**Chapter Eight**

**Shut Up and Kiss Me**

Jordan had nearly forgotten how much work went on in the morgue. Nearly, but not quite. And Garret was very thorough in his training. Once Jordan had given her month's notice to Boston Children's Hospital, she landed in the morgue the first of October, and hit the ground running.

Six weeks passed quickly. Garret's training took up most of her time during the day and most of her thoughts at night. She never got a chance to work with Woody. She had supervised one of his victim's autopsies, but interacted more with Sydney – who did the actual procedure – than with Woody himself. She never wondered the thought out loud, but Garret answered the unspoken question himself; "Yes. You'll still work with detectives…and so you'll work with him again…but only on really high profile cases since he's the chief of detectives. But right now, my training you take precedence over everything else."

The weather slowly turned colder and the first flurries of winter began to pepper the Boston landscape. Before Jordan knew it, turkeys were on sale at the local grocery store and Thanksgiving was just around the corner. If she was still at Children's, those staff members that didn't have family in Boston would have eaten Thanksgiving dinner with the patients. Jordan sighed. This year she wasn't sure who she'd eat with. Max had gone to Ohio to see his sister and wouldn't be back until right before Christmas.

But the dilemma solved itself…and once again, Alice played a key role. Jordan really hadn't seen the little girl since her transplant back on that muggy, rainy summer night. She assumed Alice was in school and doing well, since the inner office gossip grapevine said nothing different. Jordan was surprised when one day while she was sitting at her desk catching up on paperwork, a timid knock on her door set her holiday plans in motion.

"Jordan?" a soft voice asked.

"Alice!" Jordan looked up in surprise to see the girl, now a picture of health…pink cheeks, complete with dimples – and piercing blue eyes. Her blonde hair now easily fell below her shoulders in waves.

"Dad said you worked here now…and I told him I wanted to come and see you after school today…"

"I'm so glad you did." Jordan held out her arms and Alice ran into them for a hug. "How are you?"

"Better. Dr. Baines says my new heart is working really good. And I think it is, too."

"Good…I'm happy to hear it." Jordan bit her lip before her next comment. "Are you here by yourself?"

"No…Dad is here. He's talking with Dr. Macy about some case." Alice rolled her eyes as if to say _adults…you're all alike…_

Jordan chuckled. Woody was going to have his hands full in few years if he didn't already. "So…what have you been up to today, Miss Alice?"

"School. And it's kind of cool this year. Last year I was in daycare, but this year I get to ride the bus, when Dad lets me, and it's the real thing."

"Where are you going?"

"Sisters of Mercy…"

Jordan hid a smile. "I went there, too."

"Really?"

Nodding, Jordan replied. "But we had to wear uniforms then," she whispered conspiratorially. Alice wasn't wearing the traditional plaid skirt and white blouse Jordan remembered all too well.

"I don't have to wear one until I'm in first grade."

"Ah…."

"We just got out for Thanksgiving today…"

"Yeah…I guess it's about time for that…"

"Today Sister Mary Katherine had us draw pictures of one thing that we're thankful for. Want to see what I drew?"

"Sure.."

Alice slid her backpack off and unzipped it. Reaching down inside, she pulled out one of those rectangular, cream-colored pieces of paper that Jordan remember from her own childhood. "Look," Alice directed as she held it up.

Jordan bit back a sniffle and a tear. On the piece of paper, Alice had drawn a heart. "The other kids laughed at it…they said that it wasn't Valentines, it was Thanksgiving and my heart didn't make sense. But Sister Mary Katherine said it was the best drawing in the whole class and that she understood…and that I was right. I had a lot to be thankful for with a new heart…"

"And I think Sister Mary Katherine is a very wise woman," Jordan added, struggling to keep her tears at bay. Alice need never know how very close she came to leaving them that night.

"So do I," Woody's voice echoed from the doorway. "Sister Mark Katherine is a very smart lady."

"Dad…are you through with Dr. Macy?"

"Sure am. Ready to go home and start the holiday?"

Alice nodded. "But remember, you promised to take me ice skating on Saturday…me and Brittany."

"I remember…" Woody pulled a face at Jordan over the top of Alice's head. Jordan chuckled. "Get your things together and let's head out, Al."

Alice hurriedly put the drawing back in her backpack and zipped it up. Then she stopped and looked at Jordan. "Jordan, what are you doing for Thanksgiving?"

"Me? Oh I don't know…hang out here a while, grab some turkey at the diner…"

"That's no Thanksgiving. Come and eat dinner with me and Dad. He's cooking a turkey with stuffing and everything. He's a real good cook…he uses Grandma Hoyt's recipes…I promise…it's good."

"Thanks, but no…I couldn't…"

"Sure you could," Woody responded. "We'd love to have you…"

"But…"

"Alice, I think Lily wants to see you in her office for a minute… she said something about some chocolate candy…the kind with raspberry filling…." Alice was off like a shot.

"Chocolate and raspberries does it every time," Woody said, grinning after his daughter. The turning back to Jordan, his face serious, he continued. "Come spend Thanksgiving with us, Jo…."

"What is this? You shorten all women's names down to the masculine…Jo…Al…" she joked, trying to change the subject.

"Just when I need to cut things short. And I'm serious about the dinner invitation…Jordan Marie. Thanksgiving dinner is at 1 p.m. sharp. Dress comfortably, because right afterwards, we go pick out a tree and I drag out the Christmas decorations and watch Alice decorate it. We play sappy Christmas music and drink hot chocolate until we puke."

"Puke?"

"Until we can't drink another drop. Sometimes I even live dangerously and top it with whipped cream…"

"Ohhhhh…..life on the edge."

Woody chuckled before he turned to go. "I mean it. One o'clock. Or I'll send a squad car after you…."

* * *

Jordan found herself tentatively knocking at the Hoyt's door at 12:45 Thanksgiving Day…sweet potato casserole and bottle of wine in hand. Alice answered the door. "Jordan! Dad, Jordan's here…come on in." She pushed the door open wider to let Jordan through.

"You came…." Woody said, coming from the kitchen. He had never left his old apartment building, but had upgraded his studio situation…two bedrooms, two baths….and two times the old rent payment, he had joked to Jordan.

"I was too scared not to. I believe I was threatened with a squad car…."

Alice and Woody chuckled at her. Indeed the day was light and Jordan found herself laughing more than she had in a long time. Alice was right, Woody was a good cook and Jordan found herself enjoying the meal, the company, and the conversation. Alice glowed health now, despite the fact she hated taking the daily, awful tasting medicine that would keep her body from rejecting the heart.

After dinner, they all three had hurried through the dishes and Jordan found herself walking to the Christmas tree lot to help them pick out a tree…then laughed as Alice picked out the biggest one she could and Woody struggled to bring it home. "Sure you don't want some help?" Jordan asked him.

"No…I'm fine…everything's just peachy," he growled from somewhere in the branches of the tree.

Alice giggled. "I think he needs help…he just never wants to admit it."

"Some things never change, Alice," Jordan rejoined, struggling to find a spot on the tree trunk to help Woody bear the burden across the street, through the lobby, and into his apartment.

"Dad said you and he used to work together a long time ago," Alice said while they waited on Woody to get the decorations out of the closet.

"We did…several years ago. And then I decided I wanted to be a cardiologist again…and now I've decided to come back to the morgue and help the police."

"I'm glad…you did both. Because if you weren't my first heart doctor, you and Dad might not have met again…but I'm glad you're back at the morgue and working with him again."

"So am I…"

"Okay, Al. Here's the decorations…I've done my job, now it's your turn. Jordan and I are going in the kitchen to make hot chocolate."

She followed him into the kitchen, her hands nervously tucked in her back pockets. As long as Alice was in the room, Jordan felt comfortable…anytime alone with Woody still left her edgy.

"Marshmallows or whipped cream?" His question brought her out of her reverie.

"What? Oh, whipped cream." He put some on her drink and handed the cup to her. "She's really doing well, isn't she?" Jordan asked, indicating Alice.

"She is. And I will be eternally grateful to you and Dr. Baines."

Jordan shook her head. "I really didn't do anything…"

"Yes, you did. You pinpointed what was wrong and why…and Lewis said you moved heaven and earth….and threatened to make a few heads roll if Alice didn't get a heart…" Woody chuckled. "I will be forever grateful."

"I'm just glad she's better."

Silence hung for a few minutes while they listened to Alice in the next room, decorating the tree. "Are you glad to be back at the morgue?" Woody asked, wiping the whipped cream off his mouth.

"I am…it's like coming home."

"I thought you'd feel that way. And what little we have worked with each other…I've liked it," he said softly, gently wiping away the stray dollop of whipped cream on the side of her face, fighting the urge to simply reach out and kiss it off. "Was that like coming home, too?"

Jordan stood stock still…mesmerized once again by the blueness of his eyes and the gentleness of his touch. _It still only takes a brush of his fingers…and I'm jello all over again…Oh God, is he going to kiss me…he looks like he wants to…"_

"Dad!" Alice's voice pulled them both back to reality. "Come look at the tree."

"Sure honey," Woody called back, not taking his eyes off of hers. "On my way," he answered his daughter, letting his hand slide from the side of Jordan's cheek to let his thumb lightly trace her bottom lip.

Jordan took a sharp breath and set her hot chocolate down before she spilled it. She needed to get home…soon.

"Jordan, you come, too," Alice called.

"Coming…" She took another deep breath and pushed open the kitchen door, pausing to admire Alice's handiwork. "It's beautiful, Alice."

"It is, isn't it?" Woody responded. "I'd have to get out the pictures to be sure, but I think this year's tree is prettier than last year's… What are you laughing at?" He directed his last comment to Alice.

"Her." Alice pointed at Jordan.

"What's the matter? Do I have whipped cream on my face?" Jordan asked, her hand going up to the check that Woody had touched.

"No, silly. You're under the mistletoe," Alice answered, a very smug-Woody-ish expression on her face. "Come on, Dad…you know what that means."

"No…both of you…see, I'm moving…" Jordan answered.

"Doesn't matter. You were caught under the mistletoe…now Dad's gotta kiss you. It's in the rules somewhere.."

"No…it's okay Alice," Jordan tried to back away from the situation, only to find Woody right behind her and taking his daughter's side to the argument.

"I think Alice is right…those are the rules…and you have to be kissed." He turned her around to face him. "So pucker up Cavanaugh."

"This is not fair, two against one…" Jordan whined.

"Shut up and kiss me," Woody taunted, nearly under his breath, so low that Alice couldn't hear him.. "Or deal with the consequences…"

"Which are?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" He wagged his eyebrows suggestively, before pulling her closer and lowering his lips to hers.

It was a gentle kiss…a chaste kiss by all accounts…one that made Alice squeal and Jordan just want to cling a little tighter for a little longer and see what else would happen.

"Okay, bedtime," Woody commanded. Jordan opened her eyes, for a moment wondering if he was directing the comment to her.


	9. Remember What’s Important

**Chapter Nine**

**Remember What's Important**

If Alice, due to her looks, really was named for her literary counterpart, Jordan was sure she had been dropped down the rabbit hole after her and was still trying to determine heads from tails.

Woody's kiss had left her slightly breathless and longing for more…but that wasn't to happen that night. She had admired the tree one more time, helped Alice get ready for bed, and hurriedly left, leaving a bemused and chuckling Woody behind her.

And her wondering if after, all this time…when she was backtracking and turning corners, burning bridges and braving deep water, if somehow she wasn't still running from what she felt for him.

Somehow Woody knew it, too. Whether it was the gentle way he put his hand at the small of her back to help her around the crime scene or the soft way he'd smile at her when no one else was looking, Jordan was very much aware the detective knew about the conflict she was feeling.

And he did nothing to stop it, allowing her to wallow in her own indecision until she made up her mind. He had been man enough to set the wheels in motion…now he was man enough to wait.

But he was also man enough to make a move to push her in the right direction when the opportunity arose.

Which happened, just as the cold, winter weather in Boston began to give way to some warmer spring temperatures, in addition to a string of unsolved homicides that was driving the morgue staff as well as the Boston PD up a wall. Jordan had been clocking in hours of overtime, working with Woody to determine who was the perp.

One of these overtime periods found her in his office, long after five and long after most homicide detectives had quit for the day. She and Woody had a stack of files between them on his couch, going over each one carefully, noting the similarities on a write on board in his office. The quiet of the evening covered the atmosphere like a cozy blanket that kept drawing them closer. Woody knew it…and Jordan was trying to juggle it with her seesawing emotions. Woody gritted his teeth and desperately wanted to tell her that just for _once_ _go with the flow…_and give into what she felt. He was tired of the dance and wondered vainly if her feet were just as tired.

If her feet weren't, she certain was…tired that is. Woody watched as she dejected slammed the last file shut and propped her feet up on the coffee table and leaned back. "Let's see…" she said. "We've got the same type of knife, going in at roughly the same angles…so the perp has got to be the same height in all the cases…" she began.

"And the murders take place at roughly the same time of day…" Woody continued.

"But different sections of town…" She got up and wrote the facts on the whiteboard, vainly trying to connect the dots in her head. After a moment or two of serious concentration, she gave up, capped the marker, and laid it down on Woody's desk. Then she sat next to it. "I don't know, Woody….I just don't know…yet…" She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. "I give up….at least for tonight."

"That's a first," Woody chuckled.

"Hey…I've learned my limitations."

Woody paused for a moment, taking in her tired eyes and the visible strain on her face. "You're working too hard," he admonished.

"And you're not? Hello pot, this is kettle…"

"You need to go home and rest…take the weekend off," he continued, as if he hadn't heard a word she said.

"Can't. I'm on call."

Woody stood in front of her then…between her and the door. "You need a weekend off."

"Why? To sleep in?"

"I was thinking more like the weekend we spent at the Lucy Carver Inn…" he said, looking deep in her eyes. "Rest…be alone….although if I recall correctly, there was very little rest that weekend…"

"Between odd-ball sheriffs and old murders, no."

"I was thinking more along the lines of what happened between us…"

The look in his eyes made her voice hitch. "That was a long time ago," Jordan replied, almost breathlessly.

"Doesn't mean I don't remember it …nearly everyday."

_Oh Christ…he hasn't forgotten…even with Alice, he hasn't forgotten._ Jordan felt herself swallow hard. "You do?"

"Every time I look in your eyes…and especially ever since Alice caught you underneath the mistletoe."

"That was just Christmas tradition…"

"Oh really? Then why did you my apartment so flustered that night? And why do you lean into me every time I put my hand on your back? And why do you look at me that way when I do this?" Woody gently put one hand at her waist and drew Jordan close to him…chest to chest and thigh to thigh before the other hand tilted her head up so that when he angled his head just so, he could completely claim her mouth.

The moments stood achingly still as he leisurely explored her mouth, giving her opportunity to pull away if she wanted to…but the desire wasn't there. Instead she found herself wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him closer. And when she thought he felt him lessen the kiss, it was only to pull away and pepper her face and neck with soft, urgent kisses, as his hands skated beneath the hem of her sweater and then spread out on her ribs, pulling her still closer and marveling at the fine texture of her skin at the same time.

She still was offering no resistance. Instead, she tugged his tie off and began to work on the buttons of his dress shirt, softly moaning against his lips at what his touch was doing to her…weaving that old magic…but instead of making her want to run away, it made her want to melt into him, hold him closer…let him make her his.

And this time no alarm bells were going off in her head.

But it was her soft touch on his bare chest that caused Woody to pull in the reins. "Wait…"

"We've waited a long time, Woody…" she murmured against his lips.

"Not here….not in my office."

Jordan took a deep breath. He was right. They couldn't…not here….they could be interrupted and his door wasn't locked…and on the other side of the wall there was at least a half a dozen detectives on night shift. "Okay… I know…"

She tried to pull away, but found he was still holding her close. "Some things don't change, do they, Jo?" he asked. "That attraction we've always felt for each other…it's still there despite years and distance and circumstances, it's still there."

She nodded wordlessly against his chest…loathe to move…even more reluctant to have him let her go. "I remember," she said softly.

"Do you remember when we were snowed in at the Inn?"

She nodded. "Every detail."

"And how everyone but us assumed that afterwards, we'd be together?"

"I remember."

"So what happened?"

"You decided you wanted to take it slow."

Woody pulled back and looked at her. "I thought _you_ said _you_ wanted to take things between us slowly."

Jordan shook her head. "Once again, you put words in my mouth, Farm Boy. Remember? You said slowly…then things ground to a halt."

"And you left for cardiology."

"I know…"

"And I got Alice."

"Then we both got too busy to remember what was really important…what mattered." She slowly rebuttoned his shirt.

"So what does matter?" Woody asked softly in her ear.

"I think I'd like to repair some bridges," she answered slowly, in an equally soft voice.

"When?"

"Tonight."

* * *

As luck would have it, Alice was spending the weekend with Brittany's family. Jordan left work, went home and changed clothes and grabbed an overnight bag. Fifteen minutes later she found herself knocking at Woody's door with the same trepidation she felt on Thanksgiving. To confess her feelings to him was one thing.

To act on them was completely different.

But the soft smile he threw at her when he opened the door dispelled any leftover fears she had. She dropped her bag by the door and followed him into the apartment. "Want a glass of wine?" he casually asked over his shoulder?"

"That'd be nice…thanks."

"Risling?"

"Good choice."

She accepted the glass of wine from him and stood drinking it while he switched on the CD player. Soon the apartment was filled with a jazzy blues mix. "Dance?" he asked, holding out his hand.

Nodding, she sat down the glass and let him draw her into his arms. Soon she found herself once again carried back in time…him holding her close and them slowly moving to the music. "Remember the Pogue?" she whispered in his ear.

"I do. Helping you close up and dancing afterwards to the music on the jukebox."

"Those were good times…."

"And we didn't realize it," he breathed softly through her hair. She felt him shift her just a little to pull her closer.

"No, we didn't. But we have now…" she pulled back and looked in his eyes, feeling herself mesmerized by his scent.

"We do. But only if you're ready….and only if you're sure…" Woody answered, his own eyes echoing the feelings in hers.

"I am…"

"To both counts?"

Jordan nodded and felt Woody pull her to him once again, claiming her mouth, which she willing yielded to him.

Clothes did come off this time…slowly…with a clever brush of the fingers here and a soft stroke there…buttons were undone and shirts melted away from their shoulders…it wasn't until Woody reached for the button on her jeans that Jordan realized just how far they had come…She arched into him, letting her aching breasts find some relief against his warm, hard chest, and moaned softly against his lips….then let her own hands slip down between them, deftly brushing the front of his pants before she unfastened them and pushed them off his hips.

"No fair," he murmured in lame protest. "You're getting ahead of me."

"Need some help catching up?" she teased, pushing her own jeans over her hips and kicking them off, standing before him in nothing but her lacey briefs.

"Dear God…you're more beautiful than I ever remembered…"

Jordan was quite sure afterwards exactly how they made it to the bedroom…she just remembered lying beneath him once again and feeling him work the same magic on her body that he had all those years ago…the mind-melting kisses, the trail of caresses his fingers and lips left across her collar bone and sternum…the gentle pressure of his fingertips on her breast, followed by the lavish attention he paid them with his lips. She arched against him in pleasure, her soft cries encouraging him.

Finally, he slid a finger into her, feeling her clinch around it and arch her hips against his, as if trying to mold them to him. With one hand under her bottom, pulling her more firmly against him, he slid into her and was rewarded with a deep sigh of gratitude. He would never know how much she had missed him and how long this wait had been for her…how hard it had been on her. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she pulled herself even closer and waited for the sensation that would push them both over the edge, rocking with him, taking him even deeper.

The hitch in her breath told him she was close. He angled above her again and slowed down…thrusting slower but deeper inside of her. Jordan's breath hitched again. "Woody.."

"Let it go, baby…just let it go. Don't think…just feel. Let it go."

Her low moan and the arch of her back told him she was there….and he joined her…her response doing more than just pushing him over the edge, but making him lose control…something he could not imagine happening with another woman…nor wanting to.

Finally rolling off of her, but pulling her against his chest, he struggled to regain normal breathing. "Wow…that was…wow…"

"Better than I ever remembered…."

Woody nodded. "Yeah." He gently trailed on finger down her arm…reluctant to spoil the mood, but knowing they needed to talk "So….how do you feel?"

Jordan stretched lazily, noting some muscles were now aching that hadn't ached in a long time, but feeling the sleepy sensation of fulfillment in her limbs. "Good…what about you?"

"Not about that…what we just did…how do you feel about us? This was a big step…."

"I know." She rolled over and propped herself up on her elbows on his chest, so she could look him in the eyes. "I've missed us. I spent most of the last seven years trying to forget us and that was a miserable failure….not when everywhere I turned I saw things that reminded me of you…"

"So you're good…with this…with us?"

"I am. Are you?"

Woody leaned back on the pillows and chuckled. "See…I remember a woman that was once so scared of relationships that she ran anytime the 'L' word came up….who never gave anymore of herself than she was sure she could do without if she ever got hurt…"

"I remember her, too. But she changed once this blue-eyed detective from Wisconsin stole her heart."

"Really?"

"Really. It took her a while, but when she was scared she might lose him forever, she wised up."

"And now…what does she remember now?"

"That she loves him…very much. She's not sure exactly where this road will take them…but she remembers she doesn't want to lose him…and she wants to be with him."

"She does?"

"She does."

"Then…you know what I think?" Woody asked, pulling her face down to his for another kiss.

"What?"

"I don't think you have anything to worry about…" he said against her mouth before he caught her lips in another mind-numbing lip lock, one hand sliding up the inside of her thigh as he deftly flipped her over on her back.

_No worries…_ Jordan couldn't remember the last time she had no worries…She may have tried to burn bridges over more water than she could ever tread…back track around corners she had never really turned…but that part of her life was over. She may have forgotten the little things about their relationship, but she remembered what was important.

Him.


End file.
